


You were wearing in yer new work boots the other day...

by woollen_pharaohs



Series: Meditative Chaos [3]
Category: Letterkenny (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, PWP, The thirst is real, Unsafe Sex, bottom wayne, ie. no condom use, slang heavy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-10 19:43:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10445964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woollen_pharaohs/pseuds/woollen_pharaohs
Summary: Wayne wears in his new work boots. The first day's always rough but Darry makes it worthwhile.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Straight up fun and dirty, hope you guys like it :)

Darry scrunches his face. “A _year_!”

“Not a day longer,” Wayne clarifies, “E’ery 26th of April I go down to the city and purchase me a new pair of boots and it’ll last me 365 days and I suppose one more day if it be a leap year.”

Darry’s shaking his head now, “A good pair of boots oughtta last three years at a minimum.”

Wayne cocks his head back and squints over at Darry. “A minimum.”

“A minimum. I got these here work boots I ain’t changed em for six years.”

Wayne sits back in the lawn chair, rests his beer bottle on top his knee cap, “It’s why yer feet stench so bad. Go on with me tomorrow and I’ll buy ya a new pair bud.”

“No can do.”

“Yes can do and I should say so.”

Darry folds his arms over his chest, “You can buy em but don’t mean I’m gonna wear em.”

Squirrelly Dan pipes up, “Well that’s just rude then ain’t it Darry. Can’ts have yer sweetie buyins ya somethin and not honourings the gesture by wearin the damn thing.”

“’Preciate it Dan,” Wayne says with a nod towards him.

Darry squeezes his chest with his crossed arms, pouting as he says, “Well I ain’t comfortable with you buyin it Wayne, work boots are ‘spensive.”

“Get used to it Dar,” Dan says sippin from his beer and lookin out on the field.

Wayne casts one raised eyebrow over at Dan briefly, “That’s a Texas sized ten four eh Dar?”

Darry pouts and makes a grumbly noise, a behaviour Wayne’ll mirror the following day.

 

-

 

Wayne listens to Darry spinning on the taps in the bathroom in the ensuite, the plastic bucket bumping against the porcelain rubbing first high pitched then shallower as the bucket fills with water. Wayne lounges off the edge of the bed, a cushion set between his heels and the carpet.

“This why I didn’t want no new boots!” Darry calls from the bathroom.

Wayne looks scornfully at his new leather boots already muddy from a day’s work and when Darry comes in with the bucket full of water he makes sure to turn his face neutral. Pain free.

“Mine fit me just fine and I’ll tell ya again I don’t mind a wet sock compared to what you done to your feet.”

“Yer gonna get a foot infection Dar.”

Darry lowers the bucket to the carpet and lifts Wayne’s feet up, pushes the bucket underneath raised feet.

“You ain’t gonna be walkin around tomorrow yourself Wayne.”

Wayne frowns, “Super tall order. I get em in Summer is sos the heat helps wear in the leather.”

“Blisters part of the process?” Darry questions, carefully lowering Wayne’s feet into the cool water.

Wayne winces the moment the cold slaps onto his heel, “Can confirm.”

He clenches his teeth further as Darry submerges Wayne’s feet in the water. Once Wayne’s feet lay pressed flat on the bottom of the bucket, Darry cups one hand in the water and gently pours water over Wayne’s ankles a few times.

“No need for this poppy shit Dar. Blood and sweat never done me wrong.”

“You been too long without a good sweetie Wayne you forgot how to look after yourself,” then Darry stands up, “Wait here I’ll get some seasoning.”

Wayne looks up at him, frowning, lips set thin. Darry winks then turns and bolts down the hallway and stomps down the steps and the moments when Darry’s gone Wayne uses to contort his face and freely wince and groan not so loud that anyone could hear the noise travel down the staircase. And when Darry does stomp back up the stairs and come into the bedroom, Wayne sets his face back to neutral, a medium rare steak left lukewarm, neither here nor there.

Darry rips open the peel tab of the bi carb soda packet and empties a good amount into the bucket and then drops two droplets of vanilla essence in and explains, “To make it smell good.”

“Yer tryin’t’bake me?”

Darry kneels down beside the bucket now and slips his hands into the water and raises one of Wayne’s feet and massages it gently.

“My Mama taught me how to do this when she wore her clip clops and torn her heels to the bone.”

Wayne blinks but he don’t say nothin. Mesmerised by Darry’s gentle hold on his throbbing foot, the care the man takes to rubbing his thumbs over Wayne’s tender foot. His eyes cast over Darry’s bare back too, watches the flexing in worn muscles over his shoulder blade, the curve in his spine, the sun spots speckled across sweaty skin.

Wayne grips his knees and every so often Darry cast his eyes up and gives Wayne a sneaky wink reminding Wayne that he’s gotta keep his face set and make nothing break but Frank Sinatra is it nice to have someone treat his sores from chorin. When Darry lets go of his foot Wayne can’t help but make a little whine in complaint. Short after he feels a kiss pressed on his shin and Darry goes to massage his other foot.

He lies down on the bed and looks upside down out the little triangle window, watches the sun setting the orange dripping too soon out of sight. Dinner full in his stomach making him tiresome, a caressing on his feet making him relaxed and soothed and drifting. After massaging Wayne’s feet for a good half hour or so, Darry lifts Wayne’s feet up, pushes the bucket aside and uses a towel to softly pad over Wayne’s soaked feet.

Wayne sits up now. His feet look like seventy-two days old prunes caught in a flash flood. Wrinkles worn all over his skin, making the tough look soft and the blisters sloppy and open. He winces at em, behind Darry’s turned head as his buddy steps up to the dresser and grabs some lotion and a pair of woollen socks. He kneels back down beside Wayne’s feet, rubs the lotion across and tugs the socks up over Wayne’s ankles and gives his socked feet encouraging pats on top. Darry stands up now, a stupid grin on his face as he tosses the lotion on the bed, then plants his hands on his hips.

Wayne looks up at his partner. Presses weight down on the soles of his feet only to retract the pressure and reel back, trying to squint away the pain.

“Oh bother.”

“Maximum ply I’d say,” Darry says, still grinning.

“Point of blisters is they make skin tough where it oughtta be tough for the shoe. Tomorrow I’ll go out chorin and my feet’ll be softer than Calvin Klein underwear and tear down the skin worse than today.”

Darry frowns, “Suppose my Mama did only wear her clip clops not every day…”

And Wayne watches Darry’s thoughtful face turn forlorn like he’d done the wrong thing a kind of puppy dog sad the way Stormy gets when she’d taken a piss inside and she know it a bad thing but she don’t wanna be punished for it. Darry’d had his heart in it at least, thought he was doin a charitable and Wayne’d not been opposed to it fully anyways but suppose it would be a tad like donatin queer paraphernalia to the church they don’t mind the giving but opposed to the product. Suppose with parishioners like Glen the product ain’t opposed to neither. Christ, did he just compare himself to Glen?

“Dyawannaknowwhat Dar if my work boots shape my feet enough to blood and bone tomorrow you can bathe my feet again like you did now and you can keep doin it e’ery night til I don’t bleed no more ‘cause I can ‘preciate the loving and the soothing in the action.”

“Maybe you need to power through it like normal. Can confirm I do wanna see ya wearing the stockings again,” Darry grins again.

“Think I oughtta order a pair for every day of the week once I’m done bleeding through my socks.”

“You like em enough?”

“I’d say so,” Wayne nods.

“I like em enough,” Darry grins, “Alright, don’t get up now I’m not done yet. Just stay put.”

Wayne blinks rapidly, “What, what fer?”

But he don’t get an answer in words ‘cept what he gets is Darry’s hands planting themselves on Wayne’s shoulders and Darry climbing onto his lap, knees either side of Wayne’s hips.

“I ain’t a chair Dar case you forgot,” Wayne says but he don’t mind it a bit.

His hands automatically go to Darry’s ass now, he supposes at first to help Darry keep his hold but also he reckons a tad ‘cause he just wants to touch Darry there. Doesn’t mind a bit neither when Darry does grind up against him, helps get things hot and tight there like they oughtta when he’s got his sweetie sittin on top of him. Also helps him from thinking about his feet puffy and saturated but throbbing less now that something else is.

Darry runs a hand down the back of Wayne’s neck, coaxes him to tilt quick until their lips can clash. Wayne fastens his eyes shut, listening and feeling the way Darry moans like a whore into his mouth. Several successions of little sighs and hums rough like hunger pains, forming forlornly into frustration as he has difficulty in unbuttoning the top button in Wayne’s shirt.

Darry breaks from the kiss, lips grazing Wayne’s terse jowl, and puffs out, “Why’re ya gotta wear yer shirt like this Wayne?”

Wayne furrows his brow, swats Darry’s hands away and undoes it himself. Lets Darry finish off the rest cause he knows Darry likes to expose Wayne’s body, thinks it’s something to show off to no one except Darry really. Wayne yanks off the sleeves, and lets the checkered fabric soar and he goes back to Darry who’s grinding his hips again. Silk boxers hide nothing. Wayne runs his hands back over Darry’s plump ass, he’s got a good one his partner does. Rubs across the silk and can’t keep his frown when he looks up at Darry lip caught in his teeth and eyes glassy and a line of pink across Darry’s cheeks.

He kisses Darry again now, noisy as Darry’s been, and he runs his hands up Darry’s back and around the front, catches Darry’s hard nipples in between his thumbs and forefingers. Darry elicits a sticky moan into Wayne’s mouth which vibrates into his lungs in such a way that Wayne can’t help but echo it back. Feels all tingly about it as he feels Darry’s response, a shiver down his spine and his pecs twitching under Wayne’s thumbing and Darry’s impaler straining through the boxers, tapping Wayne’s abdomen where he’s let Darry’s favourite snail trail gain some traction.

“Fuck Wayne,” Darry rasps, dropping his forehead on Wayne’s shoulder.

His sweetie rolls into him now, one arm wrapped under Wayne’s underarm a hand slapped against his back, the other snaking down to Darry’s boxers aiming to sort himself out there. Wayne licks his lips. Sometimes he thinks about what it would be like to have Darry fuck him only ‘cause some nights he dreams it. Wakes up early morning with a hard-on like a teenager and his mind slippery with thoughts of wet dicks and penetration in risky locations. At the back of bars or on fabled coast ways where there ain’t no where on the sandy shores nobody can’t see ya. Guess he ain’t opposed to the dreams so much no more now that he can and oughtta do something about it.

Darry breathes heavy, sloppy kisses over Wayne’s neck, hard wrist movements and fingers digging into the built flesh on Wayne’s back. Sounds like he’s getting closer, so Wayne takes his sweetie by the waist and flips him over on their bed, a surprised gasp escapes Darry’s lips, swiftly stolen by Wayne bargaining to share the air between them. Hastily he snatches onto Darry’s boxers and slides them down, then seizes Darry’s wmd the tip already pooling with precum and he ain’t so opposed to holding Darry’s sensitivity, the physicality of it and the spirit too in their knowing eyes.

The tip of Darry’s custard slinger bumps against the zipper in Wayne’s jeans, a feeble layer of denim laying over the line and Darry must be able to feel his own thickness, painfully restricted. ‘Cept Wayne don’t do nothing about the tightness ‘cause it kind of gets him off anyway, nearly, helps a whole lot with Darry writhing beneath him, back arching and tummies touching and Darry’s dick shuddering in his clutch.

Darry moans the whole time too and he ain’t quiet about it. Whines out Wayne’s name, stretching out the vowels so much that it does start to sound like Darry’s shouting out ‘whine’ instead. And the kid makes sure to crane his neck away from Wayne, moaning as loud as he can making Wayne wince ‘cause he knows his little sister’s around somewhere if she’s not been gone out the moment she heard their bedroom door close anyway. He grits his teeth and rolls his hips in time with him pumping Darry and it don’t take a small second for Darry to jack all over Wayne’s hand, the rest of it shooting onto Wayne’s stomach.

Darry sinks on top the bed sheets, gasping for breath and clawing at Wayne’s body and Wayne plops down beside his sweetie, curls into him bulge pressing against the side of Darry’s hips. Darry’s still gasping for air and lips slick and red and he asks Wayne, “Want me to do you?”

“Yep,” Wayne says sheepishly.

Can’t imagine where Darry gets the energy but he jumps up and over Wayne to wrench off his jeans too tight for Wayne’s own good. When Darry does loosen his jeans lower, Wayne’s horn howler bounces out of its sheathing and knocks against the snail trail he’s cultivating and he blinks at the embarrassment of the whole thing but Darry seems to like the look of the action. In pulling Wayne’s jeans off, the socks have to come off too and Darry makes sure to slip the woolly things back on and give the tops of his feet a couple of firm pats, and then he’s about to straddle Wayne until Wayne turns on his side, hooks one leg up level with his chest.

“Wayne,” Darry sounds confused.

“Darry,” Wayne replies, leaning up a bit to cast his eyes down at his own ass naked as a jay bird ‘cause he don’t wanna have to say it out loud.

Darry puts one hand on Wayne’s thigh and he’s about to protest again until Wayne catches his eye, moves a hand over Darry’s and points him in the direction he wants Darry’s hand to go.

“Ya want me te-“

Wayne cuts him off, “Mmmm…”

“Kay.”

Darry grins and positions himself a face towards Wayne’s ass and Wayne blinks away for a moment cause it’s just nothing he’d ever imagined would happen or ever happen he should say ‘cause those dreams he’d of had of late do put him in some peculiar situations body wise. Darry grabs one ass cheek and Wayne tries not to flinch but maybe he does just a tad so he gives Darry a brief nod to go ahead and then he hears the squirt of the lotion.

“Wayne,” Darry starts.

“Darry,” Wayne frowns, peering down at Darry’s messy red head.

“There’s been an incident and I’d like to talk about it,” Darry says, eyes peering up at Wayne over the curve of Wayne’s ass cheeks.

Wayne blushes at the angle and twitches because of havin to acknowledge it, “Pitter patter then Dar.”

He can feel Darry’s fingers splay apart his hole, muscles there twitching as much as his cheeks.

“You bet…” Darry starts off slow, one lotion lathered finger circling the entrance, “…That I can’t grow a beard…” The blunt end of Darry’s nail tickles skin he ought not to ever have to worry about and a second later he feels Darry’s fingertip push in between, “…When you’re as hairless as a mole rat down here Wayne. How’d you do it?”

Wayne presses his lips together, blinks furiously up at the ceiling, ass clenching like a calf on it’s mummy’s teet around Darry’s finger and he feels like he ought not to be so hungry for it but it don’t feel half bad so he stammers something of an answer, “It’s not appropriate to talk about.”

“Wayne,” Darry reasons, his finger slipping out of Wayne’s hole.

“D-Darry…” Wayne exhales.

“Well, spit it out shootsie wootsie,” Darry says encouragingly, motioning his finger inside Wayne’s hole like he would beckon words out of his mouth.

“Aaaah…” Wayne moans, clutching onto the nearest pillow and bunching it in his mouth and against his face as he tries to stifle another inappropriately loud moan.

Darry shuffles closer, his left hand splayed across Wayne’s ass cheek, spread the muscle and fat apart to gain better access to Wayne’s hole and Wayne’s clawing at the pillow the same time as Darry’s thrusting another finger in to burrow into his tight chambers. It’s the middle finger that makes it final. Makes him feel queerer in that moment more than anything else, more than the dreams or the thinking on it ‘cause it’s Darry with two strong fingers shoved up Wayne’s ass and he’d never let no other sweetie do this to him guess he should’ve known cause it feels too good. And Darry seems to know what he’s doing too ‘cause there’s some business of twisting his fingers along Wayne’s channel, lining the walls and then this kind of hook, the hook that does it, the tip of Darry’s middle finger the magic one hitting his prostate hard but fuck if it ain’t pleasurable. Wayne’s whole body tenses up from the surprise, clenches then at the absolutely _good_ feeling of it and he could’ve cum right then from just one touch if he hadn’t bit his tongue through the pillowcase shoved in his mouth.

He spits out the pillow, panting, and wriggles out of Darry’s hold even though the escape of it feels odd and he splutters, “Take about five percent off there bud.”

“Only five percent?” Darry grins but he does retract and Wayne is thankful of it, despite his hole feeling strangely empty now.

Wayne nods as he gathers the pillow in his arms and he says, “I’m gonna tell ya that I weren’t accustomed to that feeling but I ain’t entirely opposed to it.”

Darry sits up for a moment, presses a kiss to Wayne’s ass cheek and says, “Want to keep going?”

Wayne blinks a bit, “Well, alright.”

Wayne lies down again, pulls his knee back to his chest and feels Darry splaying open his hole and with more fresh lotion on the tip of Darry’s fingers, cold meets hot as Darry thrusts his fingers in now just slow though, this time, just gentle but it still brings tears to his eyes. Wayne blinks and moves his hand to meet Darry’s on his ass and takes over holding his ass apart so Darry can chase Wayne’s dick and start to pump him kind of awkward over the hillscape but Darry sorts it out one way or another. A slow kind of angled system of Darry slung over Wayne’s thigh and his sweetie’s fingers sliding gently in and out and slick hand dragging his foreskin up over the tip of Wayne’s dirk dangler and down again, up and out and in and down and far too fucken slow.

‘Cept it’s not just the lack of haste it’s his sweetie seems to be keen on missing his sweet spot on purpose like too. Wayne makes a frustrated growl, wrenches the sound out across the fabric of the pillow an exchange of tension expels warmth back against his mouth. He sits up and in doing so his ass clenches around Darry’s fingers and there’s a dull wet slap, faint though, when Darry wrenches his fingers out and sits back opposing Wayne with two eyebrows raised eyes wide.

“Wayne?”

Something of the heat and the wanting to be one with Darry. He moves in on him, hand slapping around the back of his sweetie’s neck and lips clashing and his other hand going to meet Darry’s hard drive half hard already. Darry grins and grins and must hurt his face and Wayne kisses wide lips and hard teeth and moves his hand from the back of Darry’s neck trailing down his spine, making his man curve and crane as Wayne moves with it. Drops a foot or so to catch Dar’s right nip between his lips and worry the sweet tit as he coaxes Darry to full hardness.

He has trouble breathing clear out of his nose, incensed with wet love and saturates Dar’s nipple with sticky saliva thick and he can smell the leftovers of liquid salt, only makes him thirsty.

“I want ya,” He growls, kissing around Darry’s nipple still.

Darry claws his hands into Wayne’s stiff hair and moans, “Oh fuck…”

Wayne hears Darry’s moan swell against his chest and his hearing goes heavy like he’s sinking under water, airless and clinging and he mumbles out words that sound like nothing but should sound like something, “…Want ya Dar…”

His eyes roll back and he misses Darry’s fingers in him like a piece is missing like there’s an itch inside that isn’t itchy per se but it’s aching he’s fucken aching for Darry to fill him again and he ought not to be a slut about it. ‘Cept he is a bit of an animal about it as he twists and turns on all fours, kind of not so subtly rubs his ass against Darry’s hard length and he hears Darry swallow hard, a strangulation of breath as he shouts out impassioned.

“Holy shit!”

Wayne reaches down, cocks his legs angled right as he seizes Darry’s cock and presses the tip of it against his hole and moans at the plugging shock of it. Darry’s hands wrap around Wayne’s hip bones natural handles as it were and pushes in and Wayne makes a disgusting guttural moan so loud he don’t care if the whole town hears fuck it if it ain’t appropriate it’s appropriate enough right now. He paws out for purchase for pillows and blankets and bundles them all up underneath his chin and uses the tightness of the bed sheets tucked underneath the mattress to help him stay secure as Darry slides his sticky grenade into his hole so he deep he don’t think it would be that much but it’s like God made for it like the pieces fit together and fuck do they fit together.

His cock throbs contactless but what Darry’s doing to him is enough to spread want from his insides out, core splitting and he grips his mound of bedding til he reckons he gets some kind of fabric burn on his rough palms but it ain’t nothing compared to the burn trailing in his ass. Darry grunts like a wild boar, plunges into Wayne and wheezes out pads of his fingers pressing into Wayne’s skin and the slight jags in his nails tickling Wayne. And Darry pushes in again, rippling, and Wayne can’t help but think on the image of his planting combines drilling holes into the ground soil spurting out either side of the cylinder and when it pulls out there’s a neat cavern the exact diameter of the drill. And the soil, though it’s recently penetrated by rain and prone to sinking it waits like a living thing, waiting compacted and uncaving for the drill to return and strengthen the walls.

And fuck is he ever going to look at the drill the same way again.

‘Cept he gets angry about the pace again, too slow and careful and he barks at Darry, “That all you got?”

‘Cept of course before he can finish the sentence Darry hastens, lays into Wayne and doesn’t miss a beat in hitting the sweet spot a small sensitive lump he’d heard on but never felt on until now letting himself be queer and proud about it. He moans and Darry roars the belly of the beasts swollen in his stomach and Wayne gnashes his teeth on some pillow case, duck feathers crinkling underneath and fingers straining and hollow point twitching hot despite its lonesome.  The bed frame clangs against the wall, a mark indenting on an old one in the painted brick Wayne’d thought nothing of prior. The alarm clock and picture frames and little daisies Darry had picked for him that day fall off the bedside tables and he feels bad about it, hopes the daisies don’t get ruined so he can put em with his collection later on.

He don’t think on it much longer though ‘cause Darry leans over him heaving chest over Wayne’s back sweaty and slippery and he can feel Darry’s breath over his skin and due to the angle Darry’s not hitting the right spot no more but it’s still a good enough feeling. Good enough that Darry only has to graze Wayne’s balls with his fingers what makes him leap over the edge. Thirsty for the taste and cums in shock of it, his balls seizing and friendly weapon blanks out for a moment and comes back coughing and spluttering due to the dumb shit that comes out of Darry’s mouth when he lets his feral ground squirrel loose rabid in Wayne’s hole. Wayne feels hot semen fill him and thinks it’s fairly hot but also thinks it’s fairly amusing the sounds of words what which is coming out of Darry as he’s coming still rigorous and unashamed.

“Well, fuck Dar.”

Darry strains on the consonant, drawn out with the first ejacks, “Yep…”

He laughs a bit, but fuck if Darry’s passion is hot anyway. Successive shuddering, grappling of Wayne’s skin and balls unloading round two into Wayne’s hole heaving and leaking. They fall to the bed, tears in Wayne’s eyes just dues to the pain of being split and the love of having his love in him and next to him and with him. And he slings an arm back behind Darry, pins his man against his back and keeps Darry in him until hard disk becomes floppy disk. And they stay together, glued with natural, the moonlight silver and sparkling over their shining bodies and he smells and feels as if he’s in a sea of salt, strong and heavy ocean clinging around his ears making his hearing dull but fine-tuned to that of his sweetie sweaty and sweet and stammering stupid soaring sentences across his ears. Telling Wayne how much Darry loves him back and how he appreciates Wayne and thanking him for the day and for the new boots and for the grace and the giveness of the season and years to come. And there’s lots and more for Wayne to be thankful for and only so many ways to express it but being together and working together and fucking together and laying side by side is something he can do and will do and tear jerking dick jerking just in the thought of that he gets to do it all with his best bud in the whole world.


End file.
